


Dead or Alive

by Nisaki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Related, Anal Sex, Biker Dean, Bottom Sam, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Motorcycle Sex, Rimming, Schmoop, Shy Sam, Top Dean, Wincest - Freeform, Wincest Writing Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 02:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12026406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nisaki/pseuds/Nisaki
Summary: Sam has always been attracted to the wrong kind of guys, those who spell troubles and your daddy tells you to stay away from.It's too bad Sam never listens to his dad.He's never actually done anything. Just admired from afar. That is until he met Dean Winchester.





	Dead or Alive

**Author's Note:**

> written for round 11 of the Wincest Writing Challenge. For the prompt Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi.  
> My partners for this round are mybrothercomesfirst and storyspinner70 . Thanks to the wonderful mods of the challenge, you guys are amazing.  
> Also, a huge thank you and a hug for [Soy-em](https://soy-em.tumblr.com/) for the super quick beta work, you're the best Em <3.

 

Sioux Falls is not usually the kind of place he prefers to stop in. One of the reasons he chooses to spend his time on the road is his hatred for big cities, and while Sioux Fall is not as bad as...let's say NYC, he still wouldn't have been here if it was his choice.

But it isn't. His motorcycle broke, and he needs to fix it, and Sioux Fall is the nearest place.

The salvage yard he stops in is one of the saddest things his eyes fell on, a huge space filled with broken cars and dirt. He's not really planning on staying long, that's not his thing. He breezes through towns and hopes no one remembers him. Two days tops, and he'll be out of here.

''Hello?'' he shouts. For a second he thinks the place is abandoned,  but he hears steps coming in his direction. He looks up and his eyes meet startled hazels.

''Hi!'' The guy greets, and damn he's fine. The real definition of tall, dark and handsome, except the word Dean wants to use here is _pretty_. The guy is young, has a pointed nose and sharp jaw. High cheekbones and on further inspection, his eyes aren't really hazel, they're a number of swirling colours that keep on changing with the light and the blinks. Dean is kinda dizzy.

Huh, well maybe he'll stay a little bit longer than two days.

''Emm.''

It's the blush on the guy’s cheeks that snaps Dean out of his haze, he's been basically ogling the guy. Damn it, he's usually cool about this. He takes a breath and puts his game face on.

''Hello there,'' He gives a smile that helped him get into countless pants and extends his hand. ''I'm Dean Winchester, my bike,'' he gestures with his head over his shoulder ''broke and I was wondering if I can keep it here till I get the things I need to fix it?''

The guy's answering smile is demure, and he lowers his head to hide his reddening cheeks behind his too long bangs. And that's another thing; his hair. Chestnut and cut to frame his face in messy layers, sun shining off of it and it looks so smooth Dean has to fight the urge to pass his fingers through it.

''Sam Singer.'' The guy takes Dean's offered hand, barely shakes it and pulls back. ''I..You'll have to ask my dad about that.'' He turns his head to the side and scratches his hair, and Dean can already tell it's something he does when he feels shy. This kid is so cute.

''This way.'' Sam leads them to an old looking house, he opens the door and motions for Dean to step in. The interior of the house is an absolute mess, ancient looking wood floor, and a couch with a huge sag in the middle,  while the curtains have an obnoxious, old fashioned flowery pattern.

''Sam? You here boy?'' A gruff voice calls from farther inside the house, Dean guesses the kitchen.

''Yeah, Dad. Can you come out here? We have a guest.''

The man stumbles in his way and cusses at the leg of the chair, he grimaces as he spies Dean, but his eyes gentle as they turn to Sam. He's ragged, and his clothes have seen better days, flannel shirt and a worn out jeans, and for some reason, he's wearing a cap inside the house. He bears no resemblance to Sam, not the complexion and not the bones nor the eyes. Maybe the mom is the looker.

''And you are?'' He almost barks. Unfazed, Dean offers a hand and a polite smile and introduces himself. The man -Bobby- squeezes his hand before he lets it go, and keeps staring him down as he asks Sam about him like he's not there.

''Oh really?'' Bobby drawls, his tone hovering between unbelieving and sarcastic when Dean informs him that he'll need a little over a week to fix his ride. His alert, blue eyes dart between him and Sam and he huffs and nods. Motions for Dean to follow him.

Outside again, Dean notices some battered, black car and his steps comes to a halt. He's absolutely mortified that they let a gorgeous car reach this state.

The vehicle is beautiful, even wrecked as it is, black that he can almost see in its fine shine, and lines and curves to rival the prettiest of the ladies. He passes his fingers in a caress over the indented roof and gives a sad shake of his head.

''You know something about cars?'' Bobby enquires. Dean throws another wistful look at the car and nods.

''A 67- Chevy impala. You ought to treat her better.''   

Bobby's lips lift up in an almost smile, and he nods his head in approval. After that it's easy, the man tells Dean he's welcome to any tools he needs, and to come and work on his motorcycle any time, he even invites him over to have a beer.

The next few days pass without him noticing, it's a first for him. He's used to marking his days with the bottles that he drinks, they're long and uneventful. But time in Sioux Fall is kinder.

Or maybe it's just Sam.

The kid has taken to spending his time with Dean when he works on his bike, handing him tools and bringing him cold beer and gracing him with soft, shy smiles.

He learns that Sam is nineteen, spending the summer with his father but lives in California during school, smart enough to get a full ride to Stanford, and studying pre-law. Sam is not Bobby's biological son, he was adopted when he was eight, but Bobby was very fond of him. And very protective, if the dirty looks he keeps shooting at Dean were anything to go by.

He tries to not offer much of himself, but he soon opens up to Sam like he never did to anyone else. It's a mix of scary and exciting, and Dean finds himself reluctant to leave.

Sam's into him, he has to be blind not to see it, and even though his original plan was to score with the kid, he's not so sure anymore. He wants to, more than maybe anyone he's ever been with, but he feels like sleeping with Sam will come with an emotional package he's not quite ready to deal with.

Sooner than either of them wishes, the week comes to an end.  He gets invited over to lunch, and he can see the relief on Bobby's face when he announces that he's leaving in two days. He got his ride fixed and half the city hustled and he's ready to go.

''You promised me a ride,'' Sam tells him when they're walking outside, and he looks so sad, Dean would sooner die than deny him.

''I believe I did.”

When Sam smiles at him, dimples out and eyes bright, Dean knows he's in too deep.

Sam rides behind him, wiry arms wrapped around Dean's waist a little too tight, his chest flush against Dean's back and his warm breath tickling Dean's neck and causing goosebumps to rise on his skin.

Dean drives till they're away from the houses, a lone road in the forest, he takes them up and up till there's no more trees. Only rocks, he parks the bike several feet from the edge. They have a wonderful view of the landscape below, the green of the forest and the mountains.

''It's beautiful here,'' Sam whispers. They're sitting face to face astride the bike, Dean's back to the handles, Sam's long legs over his. There's only a foot between them, they've never sat in a position so intimate before, both comfortable under the cover of friendship. But something about the night feels too final for them to pretend.

''So,'' Sam starts ''where are you heading next?''

Usually Dean would give a smirk, say something cheesy like ''wherever the road leads me'' but he doesn't have it in him now. Not with Sam's warmth radiating so close to him, not with those multi-colored eyes fixed on his.

''I don't know,'' he answers truthfully. He feels weak, his skin is too tight for him, and maybe something is wrong with his lungs because he can't breathe right. Sam's eyes are tearing up, it's not the answer he wanted to hear. He probably knew, but he still wishes for a different reply, a place to attach to Dean.

''Hey now, don't do that.''

But Sam's tears are already falling down, and his chest is heaving in silent sobs. '' 'm sorry, didn't mean to,'' His voice is wet, and he lowers his head, a tell Dean has learnt. Sam hides when he's insecure about something, when he thinks he's not good enough.

He lets his hair fall down like a curtain, obscuring his gorgeous eyes. This time, Dean gives in to the urge, he pushes Sam's bangs and tucks them behind his ears so he can see all of him.

''Don't cry, Sammy.'' His voice is more tender than he's used to, no one's tears have affected him this much before.

He leans in, and captures those pink, tempting lips he's been dying to taste since he first laid eyes on them. Sam gasps like he doesn't believe they're kissing, Dean uses the opening to plunge his tongue inside Sam's mouth, greedy for his taste. Like a fine whisky, Sam goes to his brain and intoxicates him, making him stupid, erasing all of his previous doubts about this. He pulls Sam closer so he's straddling him, and they're full on making out now, hands roaming over each other's bodies, seeking skin and muscle.

Dean sneaks his hands into the back of Sam's jeans, cupping his ass from behind his boxers, Sam moans into his mouth, pushing back into Dean's grip. They're hard, Dean can feel the line of Sam's cock against his. It's driving him insane, he's never been so aroused and they're only kissing.

In the back of his mind he knows it's too much, knows it's a bad idea and he shouldn't. This is Sam's first time. The kid had told him after one too many beers that he's never been into bed with another. He should stop, Sam deserves better than a quick fuck on the road side, deserves better than someone who won't be here the next morning, better than Dean.

Sam arches into him, and all of his rational thoughts evaporate, leaving nothing in their place but burning want and aching need. Sam is like fire in his arms, bright and dangerous and alive, Dean can't believe he's lucky enough to witness something so amazing. They break apart with a wet sound, Sam clings to his neck, pants into his lips. He thrusts against Dean's length and whines, and the sound is so hot Dean feels his spine melting.

''Dean, please.''

When Dean's eyes first fell on Sam, he saw a shy boy, someone that might be a challenge, a potential lay. But now, with Sam's body bent over his bike in a sinful arch, naked, offering himself up and moaning like he's done this before, Dean can't breathe with how gorgeous he is. He looks like a debauched angel, a forbidden fruit that's Dean can't even dream of resisting. Ass up in the air, and pink, tight hole on display, filthy pleas falling out of his kiss swollen lips. Dean is only a man, a weak, weak man. And he's helpless in the face of such other-worldly beauty, a mere supplicant as he falls to his knees behind Sam.

The taste of Sam on his tongue is addicting, his growl mixes with the moan Sam lets out as he laps at the furled pucker of Sam's entrance. Sam trembles against him, and he keeps begging Dean, _more, deeper, hurry, fuck me please please please_.

Dean doesn't hurry though, takes his time eating Sam out, his drool wetting Sam, opening him up. He nibbles at the rim, gives it a long suck then thrust his tongue inside as deep as it can go, fucks into Sam with it.

He works in one of his fingers, and it slips inside without much resistance, Sam is burning up inside, and he's wet and tight. Dean moans at the thought of being inside him, of being the first to be there. Dean keeps it up till Sam is loose enough to take three fingers, thrusting them in and out, licking around and between them. Sam screams when Dean finds his sweet spot, body jerking on the motorcycle, and his hole clenches down on Dean's fingers.

''Dean!''

The smell of his release is like a drug to Dean, and he can't take it anymore; were he a better man, Sam's first time won't be like this. But he isn't, and he'll live to regret it later.

He pulls out a lubed condom, puts it on and lines up. Sam pushes himself up, his hands flat on the dashboard, bracing himself.

''Dean, come on! Fuck me, _please_ ,''

With one smooth thrust, Dean slides into Sam, balls resting against the curve of his ass. Dean groans at the tight fit and Sam hisses in pain. A moment passes and he starts pushing back against Dean, demanding he moves.

There's nothing gentle about the way Dean rams his dick into Sam, it's rough and fast. Dean hits Sam's prostate with every thrust, causing him to shout out his pleasure. They rock together like they've been lovers for years, Dean's never been so in tune with anyone, both of them taking and giving.

Dean muffles his groans in Sam's shoulder, bites down when his orgasm hits him, and Sam follows right after, coming untouched for the second time. They take a moment to recover, and then Dean pulls out, ties the condom and throws it away. He helps Sam up and into his clothes, and they sit side by side on the motorcycle; Sam's head on Dean's shoulder, and Dean's arm around his waist.

Dean doesn't drive him back home that night, he takes him to his motel room. This time, Dean strips him down slowly, spreads him on the bed and kisses every patch of his skin. Takes Sam into his mouth and sucks him till he's mad with lust, and opens him up with gentle fingers and too much lube. He fucks him bare, face to face. They cling and kiss and breathe in sync, and Dean feels like he could die from how good it feels.  

He lifts his head and Sam's eyes are locked on his, filled with tears and so many emotions, obvious and clear. Sam's eyes hide nothing. Forbidden, impossible words crawl up Dean's throat, they slam into his teeth as he bites hard on his tongue. He can't tell Sam.

Thankfully, Sam doesn't say the words either. Even when Dean can feel them in the air they're both breathing, and it's as calming as it is suffocating. He'll gladly die here.

 

**************************

 

Sam wakes up some unknown amount of time later, it's still dark outside, and it's almost too hot, but he'd rather give up a limb than move out of the circle of Dean's arms. His head is pillowed on Dean's shoulder, and it's so comfortable he almost cries with how much he doesn't want to lose this. He snuggles closer and Dean's arm tightens around him.

''Sammy?''

''Sorry, didn't mean to wake you.''

Dean's hand moves up and down his arm '' 's okay,''

It's silent and awkward, and Sam hates it, doesn't want their last hours together to be heavy and miserable. They stay where they're for a while, neither of them sleeping and Sam decides to bite the bullet.

''How long...'' He swallows, Dean won't answer him, but he's giving himself this, if he can't say other things he wants to say ''How long have you been on the road?'' There's a million question in this one, everything Sam wishes he could ask but can't, wording it like that is his way of giving Dean an out if he wants it.

Dean's chest expands under his hand, then deflates. It's so intimate, Sam's feeling Dean's heartbeat under his palm, thudding calm and strong, feeling his breaths, wrapped up in his warmth. It's so unfair that he has to give this up and he barely got it. He wants to do something stupid, want to beg, say please don't leave me. But he's begged enough for tonight, and he shuts himself up and waits for Dean to answer or change the subject, or pretend to be asleep.

''When I was ten, my mom died.'' Dean says, Sam sucks in a breath, he doesn't talk, rubs on the skin under his hand. ''My father spiraled out of control, drunk every night and hung-over every morning. There was nothing in the house but booze. I didn't grow up with morals, I stole to eat, ran away from home when I was sixteen, fought in rings. It's a miracle I didn't end up a junkie,'' Dean chuckles but it's humorless, he places his hand on Sam's, pressing it harder into his chest.

''I was twenty, and I heard this song in a bar. I had a black eye, and an empty pocket. And this dude was singing and I just...That song was so... _me_. I bought the motorcycle after that, it's silly I know, but I felt free, with nothing to bind me down, everything I own fit into one duffel bag,''

The way Dean just opened up to him leaves Sam tongue tied, so he gets up and kisses Dean, pours as much feeling into it as he can. It's not long after and both of them are hard again, this time Sam rides Dean till his legs give out and both of them come almost dry.

Next morning Dean drives him home and tells him that he'll come later to say goodbye, he just has some things to take care of before he puts Sioux Fall -and Sam- in his rearview mirror.

Sam asks Dean about the song, but Dean refuses to tell him its name.

His dad catches him crying an hour later.

''Son?''

Sam is so far beyond caring so he runs up and hugs his dad, allowing his tears to flow freely.

''Dad, please help me, please.'' He sobs into Bobby's shoulder, and his father clutches him hard, doesn't ask him because he knows, he warned him about Dean a million times, but Sam didn't listen.

''I love him, Dad.'' He rasps. And Bobby gives a long sigh.

''I know,''

''I want him to stay,''

''I know, Sam. I know.''

 

*****************************

 

''Hey, Dean.'' Bobby greets him when he arrives to see Sam, and he nods his head in acknowledgement. Before he can ask about Sam, Bobby interrupts him:

''I have an offer for you.''

''I'm listening.''

''The impala has been sitting around here for too long, and you seem like you would take care a'her. So, if you can fix her, I'll give her to you,''

For a moment Dean considers laughing, because that's just ridiculous, but he sees the serious look on Bobby's face and shock hits him, then elation then hesitation.

''It'll take too long,'' he says.

''And too much money for the motel, but you're welcome to our guest room, kid.'' With that Bobby leaves him in the yard. He doesn't want to stay longer than he did already, more time with Sam can bring nothing but troubles. And he knows that he'd feel caged and will want to leave sooner or later, building Sam's hopes up is not only a dick move but it'll hurt Sam immensely. On the other hand, he really wants to spend more time with Sam.

He takes Bobby up on his offer, and before he knows it, a month has passed and the car is as good as new and more gorgeous than anything except Sam.

Oh yeah, and Sam is getting ready to go back to school.

Just like when he was done fixing the bike, Sam demands for Dean to take him out in his new car. With Sam riding shotgun, Dean has a revelation; he doesn't need a car if Sam's not there to fill the passenger seat.  They go out to the same spot they went to that night, and Dean makes love to Sam in the backseat of the car.

They're sweaty and sated and tangled up together, Sam kisses his neck, right above his pulse. And Dean is sure that he can't live without this anymore.

''I'm selling the bike,'' He announces, and feels Sam's frown on his shoulder ''I have this car now. Besides, I have another passenger, I can't keep a bike.''

Sam jolts up and looks at him, eyes big and unbelieving.

''Unless you don't want me around?''

''Dean you...Do you know what this means?''

''Yeah,'' He breathes ''I can find a job, we can...maybe we can get an apartment near campus or...Hey, why are you crying?''

Sam shakes his head then starts laughing, he climbs into Dean's lap and clings to his neck, his voice muffled.

''I really want that, Dean.''

Dean threads his fingers in Sam's hair and tugs till Sam pulls back enough to look him in the eye.

''I love you, Sammy.''

Sam leans in and attaches their lips together in one of the sweetest kisses Dean's ever felt. And that's answer enough.

Years later Dean will look back and think; Dead or Alive is not his song anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is everything good in this world. Find me on tumblr as [Nisaki](https://nisaki-chan.tumblr.com/)


End file.
